If this one seems familiar, that's because it's a rewritten version of an old chapter. Set during the Christmas hols in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
OWLs
Remus says goodbye to Emmeline and picks up his coat, when Tonks pops up by his shoulder. Well, "pop" isn't accurate, because Tonks does not pop up or appear anywhere. She arrives accompanied by clatters and clangs, and occasionally half a tree caught on her clothes and hair.
Anyway, she's beside him, and she announces, "You and me taking the kids back to school next week,"
Remus is pleased he's been tasked with escorting the journey. Harry's been reserved and surly over Christmas, and Remus can tell that it's more than teenage stroppiness. Harry's troubled by his vision of Arthur's attack. Who could blame him? It's frightening and perplexing. Dumbledore wants Harry to learn Occlumency, though he's delegated to task of teaching him to Snape. Dumbledore's wise and empathetic and he knows so much about so many, though Remus isn't convinced that the headmaster fully understands the animosity between Harry and Snape. Remus saw Severus' hatred of James when they were schoolboys, and when he was a teacher he witnessed first-hand how Severus' dislike had transferred to Harry. For all Dumbledore's omniscience, he has never been in a classroom with Harry and Snape. Severus relishes tormenting Harry, and Remus is sure that he'll make the most of being unsupervised with him.
Sirius hasn't helped improve relations between Severus and Harry. Arthur told Remus that when he'd come home from hospital, he'd walked in Sirius and Snape looking close to drawing wands on each other, with Harry caught in the middle of them. Remus had furious at Sirius, but not surprised since Severus was so bitter and goading towards him, and Padfoot was such a loose quaffle. He'd considered confronting Sirius about it, though eventually decided not to. It wasn't fair to Sirius to made him feel like everyone was on his case. When Remus had reprimanded him before, Padfoot had become waspish and nasty towards him. And Remus knew that at the heart of Padfoot's unforgiving aggression towards Severus was his desire to protect Harry. Azkaban had skewed Sirius' emotions, making his love for Harry develop an obsessive, paranoid, almost violent intensity. All Sirius wanted was to do right by James, and Remus didn't want to suggest to him that that was wrong. Moreover, since Severus came to fewer Order meetings during the school term, Remus and Sirius wouldn't see much of him for the next couple of months, so confronting Sirius about him would cause more problems that it would solve. Remus had considered if he should write to Severus about the Occlumency lessons, though he'd concluded that it was best to stay out of it for the moment. He shouldn't make Snape feel like everyone was on his case (like Sirius, he often sees Harry as James, though since he hasn't been to prison he doesn't have the excuse that Sirius did. He really is a bastard).
Remus hopes, therefore, that his best hope is to talk to Harry himself. He's guilty about that, given that he'll be asking a fifteen-year-old to be responsible for an argument between grown men, though it seems the best solution. And, acknowledges wryly, Harry's used to taking on adult responsibilities. Remus hopes that he'll get a chance to speak to him on the journey back to Hogwarts. He wondered if Dumbledore had assigned him that task intentionally.
"Yes," he nods, looking at Tonks. Her hair's ginger today, as it often is when she's been with Ginny. Tonks seems to have semi-adopted Ginny as her little sister, which Remus reckons is sweet of her since Ginny's got many brothers, and Hermione, the only other girl here, is normally off with Harry and Ron.
"I'll see you here about eight?"
Remus grimaces.
"What?" Tonks asks, "It's not a full moon, is it?"
"Nothing that dramatic," Remus assures her, "I just don't like early mornings,"
Plenty of the Order moan about doing night duty, but Remus doesn't mind it. He knows he wouldn't be asleep anyway, so he might as well be making himself useful at one in the morning.
"Lucky you'll be with a bunch of teenagers. I'll be the only one of us awake,"
"Fred once told me that their Quidditch captain made them get up a six in the morning to practice," he tells her.
"Olly Wood? Yeah, he was intense," Tonks shrugs. As the months of knowing her have gone by, Remus has started forgetting that was at school so recently. She knows most of the Weasleys from Hogwarts, and only missed Remus by three years.
"Didn't you teach him?" Tonks continues. She likes hearing about Remus teaching at Hogwarts. He's hesitant to talk about much of his life, which is kind of understandable considering how rough it's been (though Tonks reckons that having loads of different houses and jobs is fascinating. Remus seems to disagree). He's happier discussing his year teaching at Hogwarts, although he always emphasises that it was only a year.
"No. He mustn't have taken Defence for NEWT," shrugs Remus. Tonks would put money on Oliver Wood trying to persuade Professor McGonagall to let him take zero NEWTs and spend two years practising Quidditch instead.
There doesn't seem to be anything more to say about that, but she wants to keep talking to him. She's enjoyed their conversations for ages, and she's thought for a while that Remus is kind of cute. That changed over the Christmas holidays. It doesn't feel like friendship or vague attraction anymore. Obsession sounds creepy, but Tonks keeps thinking about him and wanting to be with him. When she is with him, the world's different. Not or full of rainbows or corny singing telegrams, but….more intriguing. Fuller. Life's better when Remus is around. She wants to tell him about her in a day and hear what he has to say about it. She wants to know about his day and his life. He's hilarious without trying to be, and he knows loads about loads. She feels protective towards Remus, which is unexpected since she's always been more of an offensive than defensive duellist. Sirius gets defensive about him, and he throws money at buying Wolfsbane. A few weeks ago Sirius was flicking through a catalogue choosing Remus' Christmas present, and it was all dead pricey stuff. But Remus doesn't just need to be bought medication and expensive gifts- he needs to be bought stupid presents meant to make him smile and clutter up his house. He needs to be taken out to restaurants and to the theatre. Molly fusses by worrying if Remus is eating and sleeping enough, though what Remus needs too is to be asked how he's doing really, and what he thinks about the news and the Quidditch and the book he's reading. He looked taken aback when Tonks started asking him those things at first, though now she thinks he understands that she is honestly interested. Though she doubts he understands how interested. He's clearly got no idea what a sweetheart he is, or that's he's totally sexy. He needs to be messed with, to have his hair ruffled and his collar made uneven. He needs to be made to feel special.
Tonks plonks herself into a chair, hooks her feet into the dining table struts, and announces, "Harry's lot have got their OWLs next term,"
Remus doesn't understand about being made to feel special, so at the moment all she can do is try to prolong the time they spend together (they hang out on the back porch, or sit in the drawing room chatting. The other night they even emptied a bottle of wine together), and if you want to prolong a conversation with anyone in the Order, mentioning Harry usually works.
Remus takes the bait and says, "And as their former teacher I'll be sending them revision timetables and crib notes,"
He smiles at her, which makes her insides melt to sludge. Partly because he's got such a kind, understanding smile, partly because he's directing it at her, and partly because she's starting to think that his smile looks different when it's directed at her. It reaches his eyes more than it used to, and it seems more…happy. Is that a stupid thing to say about a smile? Maybe she's just imagining stuff.
"You know Hermione makes them revision timetables?" Tonks replies, "Non-ironically,"
He chuckles, "Yes, I remember,"
"A girl after your own heart," Tonks jokes, then winces at herself. That was a Freudian slip and a half. She's constantly putting her foot in her mouth around Remus these days. What's more embarrassing is that he always knows exactly what to say.
Tonks presses on hastily, "Did it work? The revision timetables?"
"They performed excellently in the exam,"
"An assault course would be their thing, wouldn't it? More fun than a test paper in the Great Hall,"
Remus looks surprised, and Tonks remembers that he's never told her about the assault course exam. She knows about it because last week she struck up a conversation with Ron about what Professor Lupin was like. "Cool," was a word Ron had used a lot about Remus' classes, and Tonks can totally imagine that. He's cool without showing off and without trying. He makes it difficult to act cool around.
"What did you get at OWLs?" Tonks asks. Sirius loves reminiscing about his Hogwarts days so she's heard lots about what Remus was like at school. When she first met him he seemed so world-weary that she couldn't imagine him being a teenager, but now she can picture him clearly: all gawkiness and ink on his fingertips, pretending he disapproved when Harry's dad and Sirius roped him into mischief.
He shouldn't feel flattered by her asking. She shoots questions at everybody all the time. She isn't especially interested in him. She isn't. It's childish for him to allow himself to believe otherwise.
"Four Os, four Es, two As," he lists, "You?"
"Six Os, two Es, a P and a T. So I win," Tonks grins. Remus doesn't get overwhelmed or dizzy when she smiles at him like that, but he does get….distracted. Flustered, if he's honest, that she's paying attention to him and at the possibility that it's him who is making her smile (Sirius has dropped hints to suggest that that's the case, although Sirius is always taunting him about one thing or another. Next week Padfoot will probably start claiming that Hestia or Molly or Hagrid has their eye on Remus). Remus knows that she wants him to rise to the bait and that he really should resist. If he keeps giving in to her he could end up in dangerous territory. But she makes it difficult when she looks at him like that, with her smile and her dark hair flopping over her eyes and her feet wedged between the table legs. It can't be wrong to stay and talk to her. It isn't as if he's…kissing her or something ludicrous like that.
"How?" he retorts, smirking back, "You failed two,"
"History of Magic and Astronomy. Astronomy- well, Mum's family," Tonks shrugs by way of explanation, "And everyone fails History, don't they?"
She pauses, then says, "Apart from you, I bet,"
"I only got an A, if it's any consolation,"
"I knew I was gonna fail so I doodled all over the exam paper. Didn't even look at the questions,"
Remus shoots her a sharp look.
"What?" she asks.
"Sirius and James used to do the same,"
He'd been appalled when Prongs and Padfoot strutted out of the hall, bragging that they hadn't written a single answer. The arrogance of it, the entitlement, the laziness. Knowing that they didn't need ten OWLs to get a job because their families were wealthy and well-connected enough to sort them out. Remus had never had that luxury, and he wouldn't want it either. He finds himself going off Tonks a bit. Then it occurs to him that nobody else can scramble his brain like she can. Sirius amuses and annoys him, but never at the speed and extremes that Tonks does. She's fascinating and bewildering, so much so that even when he's feeling irritated by her not bothering with History OWL, he asks:
"What were your Os?"
"Defence, Charms, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes, Herbology and Potions,"
"You got an O under Snape?"
"Yep. And at NEWT too. He hated me," she says with relish, "Yours?"
"Transfiguration- I'd spent the better part my school years being the only one of my friends to read the theory- Defence, Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes,"
"Not Charms? Surely you got an O in Charms?" Tonks demands. Remus holds in a snigger, because her lack of subtlety always amuses him. There she goes again, intriguing then annoying him, then nearly causing him to splutter into laughter.
When he remembers the answer to the questions, he hesitates before telling her, knowing it'll turn the conversation awkward. Remus exhales, then explains warily, "The exam was the day before the full moon,"
The pains and clamminess were worse when he was sixteen and still growing, and Remus was especially ill the afternoon of the Charms exam because he'd spent all day trying to convince his friends not to find him in the Shrieking Shack that night. Prongs, Sirius and Pete shouldn't have worn themselves out gallivanting through the Forbidden Forest with the werewolf when they had OWLs to revise for. Unsurprisingly, they three of them didn't see it that way, and refused to let Remus spend the night alone. Sirius even insisted that he'd been looking forward to this full moon, because they needed some fun during OWL season. Remus had pretended not to be hurt by that. Fun? Was that what they thought full moons were for? The persuasion had fatigued him more, so by the time everybody slouched into the Great Hall for the Charms exam he was ready to pass out. He still isn't sure how he managed to get through the exam without falling asleep or vomiting.
"Sorry to hear that," Tonks murmurs.
Remus shrugs. "It was a long time ago,"
He was right, it has got awkward. Perhaps he should have lied instead, though his well-practised poker face has felt less reliable around Tonks lately. Maybe he's the one with no subtlety around her. She's just so very, very puzzling.
For God's sake, the werewolf thing, again. She keeps making blunders about that, too. With Remus, something werewolf-related can pop up from anywhere. Tonks wants to explain to him that he doesn't have to keep reminding her. She knows he's a werewolf, and she doesn't care. She cares about how he's practical and capable and unflappable. Tonks wouldn't have classed those as particularly alluring characteristics, but Remus' handling-whatever-life-throws-at-him ability is totally hot. Hanging out with Sirius has made her realise how Black she is. Like Sirius, she says stuff then realises it sounds cocky. Sirius has always been cool, but when you get to know him you realise that he seems like he's trying to be cool, and Tonks reckons she's the same way. Remus isn't like that. He has all of Sirius' good qualities, without any of the Black baggage: he's cool and charming and sophisticated, without being smarmy. He's intelligence comes across as wise, not patronising. He's measured, thoughtful and enigmatic, without it ever seeming like a manipulation of affectation. He's funny but never seems to be chasing the punchline. He's all-round brilliant, and she isn't sure if this is what falling in love feels like, but it's different to anything she's felt before, and it's driving her crazy because she wants him so badly.
He's gone quiet now. She's not asking too many questions, is she? Is she irritating him?
Tonks is working out what to say next when there's a clattering from outside, and a streak of ginger hurtles into the kitchen, followed a moment later by a second one. It's Ron and one of the twins.
"Hello you two," says the twin, surprised that the kitchen's not empty.
She likes the sound of them being a "you two".
"Any leftover biscuits?" asks Ron.
"I think we scoffed most of them today," says Remus, in that apologetic tone he uses far too often, "Sorry, George,"
He's good at telling the twins apart. Obviously.
Ron either isn't listening or doesn't believe him, because he wrenches open a kitchen cupboard and starts rooting through it.
"While you're here, you might want to know that Tonks and I will be escorting you to school next week," Remus continues.
"Knight Bus, isn't it?" says George. He winks at Tonks and flicks his earlobe. One of Fred and George's joke shop inventions are Extendable Ears, which they've been using to spy on Order meetings. Loads of the twins' joke shop stuff is advanced magic, and Tonks wishes Molly would give them more credit. The kids use the Extendable Ears to spy on Order meetings, which Tonks might have accidentally helped out with over the Summer when she told Ginny how to check if the door had an imperturbable charm put on it. Well, mostly accidentally.
"I'll pretend I didn't see that, shall I?" says Remus loudly.
George flutters his eyelashes. "See what, sir?"
Remus knows about the ears, but Tonks has never seen him try to stop the kids using them. He pins George with his Professor Glare, and George continues to bat his eyes at him. Tonks snorts with laughter. The twins have such a reputation for Being Funny that they can drown out the fact that someone's being funny back to them. But Remus can make her giggle with a raised eyebrow or a dramatic pause or an ironic frown, like he's giving George now.
Eventually, Remus gives up the stalemate and says, "We'll be leaving at a regretfully early hour, so I'd advise that you finish packing by Sunday night,"
"I never unpack," says Ron, "Waste of time. Ha!"
He emerges from the cupboard triumphantly, clutching a packet of shortbread. He rips the packaging off and stuffs the biscuit into his mouth.
"Want one?" he asks, holding out the packet to the room.
"No, thank you," says Remus, then adds abruptly, "I must be going. I have matters to attend to in Diagon Alley,"
Tonks can't help but feel disappointed, and wish that George and Ron would suddenly remember an emergency they need to deal with upstairs. The trouble with Grimmauld Place is that you're never alone with anybody for more than about ten minutes. She's got no chance of getting further with Remus if people keep barging in.
"He's going to the pub," says George in an audible whisper.
Remus stands up and looks at Tonks. "Goodbye," he says seriously.
"See you on Monday," she answers.
"If not before," he says, and smiles his adorable smile again.
"Yeah, before,"
He looks at her intently for a moment, then pulls on his overcoat, waves to George and Ron, and leaves through the kitchen door.
Tonks only realises that she's still beaming when George chucks a biscuit at her and asks what she's looking so pleased about.
Thank you for reading. Over lockdown I've tidied up my Tumblr a bit, so feel free to follow me at: bikelock28.
